


Warm Body

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bestiality, Body Horror, HYDRA Trash Party, Incubation, M/M, Mpreg, Tentacle Rape, almost forgot the bestiality tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:18:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HYDRA's in-house tentacle beast needs somewhere warm, dark and moist to lay its eggs. The Winter Soldier is the only experimental candidate likely to survive implantation, incubation and hatching.</p><p>http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/587.html?thread=271435#cmt271435</p><p>Warning: Completely unbeta-ed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Body

They leave the asset there in the dark, closing the steel entrance behind him. Deep underground, wet and warm and pitch black. Cavernous, by the sound the water makes as it laps against the edges. 

"Don't struggle," his commander has told him.

It starts happening all at once - he is pulled into the shallow water. He forces himself to go slack. 

Then there is pain. 

Slick tendrils. Pulling. Stretching.

Horror. 

This isn't something human minds were meant to process. His clothes are melting away, and his skin is burning.

"Hold still. Don't struggle," were his orders. He tries hard to obey, but some dark, animal part of his brain agitates, spewing fear into his veins.

The asset is confused. For once, in half a century, terrified. 

Pain is the result of failure, but he hasn't failed, even once. 

" _What have I done?_ " He shouts out into the darkness. 

No one answers. 

His legs are spread. His arms secured. No heads to punch, no pressure points, no bones to break or nerves to hit. Hard stone beneath his back, the water laps against his cheeks and it's all he can do to keep his mouth above it. Tendrils caress his skin, feeling him everywhere. Writhing over his limbs, brushing against his face. 

One slickened tendril probes at his entrance, and then begins to push inside of him. It goes in deep. Opening him. Feeling him from the inside.

_~Good. Strong. Moist.~_

He feels the thought in his head, feels how much the creature is enjoying this. He tries not to retch. 

The creature slithers forward until it's on top of him. He can feel its weight across his hips and legs.

The tendril squirts more slick fluid inside of him, then retracts. Another organ replaces it. Thicker. Harder. It slides into him, settling deep inside.

_~Good. Yes. Good.~_

The creature pulls back, then plunges in again. Keeps going. A rhythm begins. Pushing forward, drawing back. His body rocks with the movement. 

Blind instinct kicks in and the asset struggles, tries to close his legs against the intrusion. The creature holds him open. When water laps over his face, making him sputter and choke, it lifts his head to keep him breathing. Tendrils stroke his cheek, stinging his skin. 

_~So good. Wet. Tight.~_

The asset is glad he can't see what's happening. This is not what he was made for. The creature writhes with pleasure as it copulates. It goes on and on, until he stops struggling and lets it use his body. 

Then the creature's rutting grows frantic, its pleasure nears peak...

_Pain, blinding pain. Burning from the inside out._

The asset screams.

~~~

When he wakes up, he's drenched in sweat and his metal hand has clawed a hole in both sheet and mattress. He chokes on the remains of a scream. 

For the past few months since his last reset, memories have been coming back to the asset _(Bucky, his name is Bucky)_. Of all the things hidden in his mind, he wishes this one could have stayed buried. 

He stills his body, focuses on breathing, listens to the sounds around him that tell him where he is - a dingy apartment in Baltimore, which may as well be heaven compared to where he's been.

Bucky closes his eyes. 

_"You did nothing wrong. You were perfect. You won't remember any of this." Alexander Pierce, looming over him while the techs clean his still-shaking body. He strokes the asset's head. It's the only gesture of comfort he ever remembers him making._

Bucky opens his eyes. Gets up and out of bed. He doesn't want anymore memories tonight. But as the dream's vividness in his mind begins to fade, the pain doesn't. It's there - really there. Not as bad as it was that night, but he can feel it. 

Burning from the inside. Deep in his abdomen and his chest. Burning spots of pain. 

For the first time in years, Bucky is scared. His instinct had been to hide, and wait, and recover. Now he was recovered enough to know he doesn't want to go back and be what he used to be. 

He needs help.

~~~

It's past four in the morning when Steve hears his window slide open. 

He knows he should have locked that window. Hell, he should probably should have moved somewhere else. Anyone left who wanted to hurt him knew about this apartment. But it was important to him that if somebody wanted to find him, he would be there to be found. 

When Steve gets out of bed, against all odds, he finds the person he was waiting for. 

~~~

Bucky heaves himself through the window and collapses on the floor. 

There are five of them. Inside him, burning like stars, five knots of excruciating pain. He thought they might consume him before he even got here. He rode as fast as his stolen motorcycle would take him. 

No time for teary reunions. 

" _Voda._ Water," Bucky hisses. He lets Steven Rogers help him to the bathroom. Instinct took him here, though he doesn't yet fully know why he trusts this man. 

Clawing away his shirt, he climbs into the tub and turns on the cold tap. The icy water is a blessed balm.

Bucky's torso is riddled with heat blisters, and five lumps of flesh the size of plums begin to rise and throb. Steve grabs his phone from the next room, but as soon as he's close enough, Bucky pulls it out of Steve's hand and crushes it in his metal fist.

"No doctors. No hospitals," he orders between clenched teeth. He won't trust anyone else. 

"Jesus, Buck. What happened to you?"

But he can't explain. Doesn't want to think about it. He's not even sure what happened himself. 

"A monster... in a cave," is all he can manage, stifling a sob. With is flesh hand, he takes hold of Steve's hand and squeezes tight. 

Steve's face mirrors his pain, and Bucky feels that somehow he did the right thing, coming to this man. 

"What can I do to help you?" Steve asks. 

Bucky shakes his head. Just being here with him helps. He doesn't want to be alone with the memory of what happened.

It takes a few minutes for the water to rise enough to cover him, and in that time the mounds of flesh have seared and blackened. 

They're _alive._ He can feel them tearing their way through his flesh to get out. Slithering though his guts, brushing his organs aside, eating away at muscle and skin. 

It doesn't take long. 

Steve is pleading with Bucky to let him get help, but Bucky holds him tight in his grip. He thinks he might be screaming. He can't tell. The pain is all-consuming. 

By the time they begin to erupt from his skin, his mind has turned blank white and still. He watches the water turn red and realizes he can _feel_ them, in his mind. Their shock and confusion, their frustration and pain. Their joy once they free themselves. They cling to him under the water, creeping along tentatively. 

When Steve finally pulls his hand away, he falls back retching. 

One of the creatures lets itself float up to the water's surface and propels itself to the edge of the tub. Lifts a tentacle out of the water, exploring the air with curiosity. 

Steve reaches out to grab it and kill it however he can. The intent is clear in his eyes. 

"No," Bucky orders with a hoarse voice. "Leave it be."

Bucky looks him in the eye. This is the only choice he's had in this process, and to his surprise Steve respects it and lowers his hand. 

The creatures... the water is so murky with blood and viscera that he can't see them clearly, but he can still feel them. They don't have words, but they have a language of sorts. In feather-soft voices they tell him goodbye. 

And suddenly they're gone, disappeared as though they never existed, leaving him a broken shell. 

Bucky sags into the water. Steve stops the tap and reaches in to pull the plug. 

"Let me call somebody. A friend who'll help. Bucky? Bucky?"

Bucky doesn't answer, so Steve makes the call. 

~~~

Bucky doesn't speak for months. During his recovery in Tony Stark's private infirmary, Steve lives in the next room. Talks to him, reads to him. Plays him old records. 

Bucky listens. He starts to remember why he loved him. 

When he's mostly healed, Steve asks for permission to draw him. For the first time in a long time, Bucky's lips curve into a smile. He nods yes.

~~~

Epilogue

They find the monster in one of HYDRA's oldest compounds, in Germany. Thor tries to speak with it, but after less than a minute it rears back to attack them, and he kills it with one throw of his hammer. 

Steve doesn't hear its telepathic responses, but from the way Thor spit on its corpse, he can guess that they weren't pleasant. He's glad Bucky hasn't given any serious thought yet to his suggestion of joining the Avengers. 

"So I'm guessing you've had the space calamari before." Tony comments to Thor. 

"Inter-dimensional calamari. I have encountered them before."

"How much do you know about them?" Asks Steve. "Are they generally... evil?" 

"They are sentient," is Thor's reply. "As with all sentient beings, some are good and some are evil."

The files recovered in the compound told the story of this one's evil. It was one of HYDRA's founding members. They'd managed to stay a secret for over seventy years, and that was mostly because they were good at recruiting members who were, and remained, truly loyal to the cause. Apparently telepathy can help in that department. 

_Mind-reading HR,_ Tony dubs the thing. 

The files made brief mention of several unsuccessful breeding attempts, and one successful one. Thankfully, they made no note of Bucky's name, or any of his known codenames. Bucky could decide whether or not to disclose what had happened to him.

Steve presses Thor for as much information about the creatures as he knows, and collects this intel along with the files. When he gets home to the apartment they now shared, he passes it all over to Bucky. 

Wordlessly, Steve sits at the kitchen table and watches him read it. The only good news in it, as far as Steve is concerned, is that once the creatures leave the dimension in which they're born, they almost never returned. 

When Bucky is done, he closes the file and puts it back in its folder. 

"You okay?" Steve asks. 

Bucky takes a moment to answer. 

"I will be. Soon. I think."


End file.
